Fallen Is Babylon, Chapter One
by Lichlord
Summary: World War 2 never truly ended...


Page 3

Chapter One: _Sauerkraut and Hand Grenades_

"Tell me what I want to know, ya' damn Kraut!" He rears the butt of the rifle and drives it into his captive's chest, making the man raggedly sputter a bit of blood out from between his lips.

He waits a few moments for the other man, a snarling grimace crossing his paled lips.

Talk, ya Aryan piece of shit!" He raises the butt of the gun once again, and brings it slamming down upon the captive's dome, cracking his skull. His eyes roll back and his body falls limp.

The captor, a large green eyed, black haired man drops the rifle and snares the dying man, beginning to shake him fervently.

"Talk to me, Kraut! Tell me what I want to know!"

"Kent!, Let him go, he's better than dead." Kent growls out a disdained sigh, dropping the newly created corpse onto the cracked cement flooring.

"You'll learn where he is in time, couldn't expect the answer to show up within the first few Krauts, could you?" Her thick French accent flows into his mind gently, calming the fury that had arisen within him. Kent meets her dazzling grey-blue eyes and nods. She was beautiful, if harsh. Short blonde hair, pale skin, and a strikingly powerful demeanor befitting a queen.

"Aye, I know Mallory. I just want to find that bastard..."

Mallory rests a hand on one of his broad shoulder, as if to reassure him that his revenge would come in due time.

"Kent... I know it's hard. Just bear with us, we need you," She leans over and presses a light kiss to his cheek, despite the fashion in which he turns it away. He'd hardly accepted any sort of affection since the incident. Mallory sighs and turns away, "Make sure you're ready, we're going to try and reclaim city hall tonight."

Kent spends the next few moments cleaning his gun, a modified M-14 assault rifle, made to shoot and kill the way it was banned by the Geneva convention. This was the year 2012, and the Third Reich had resurfaced, no one would enforce those laws now. Over half of the world had given in to the Neo-Nationalists, once known simply as Nazis. Hitler's successor had done much of what her predecessor had hoped to achieve.

The United States of America, now under the control of the Nazis and their Reich, had become a war-zone. Small factions of resistances had sprung up, though it wasn't enough to reclaim the country.

Kent slings the gun onto his back via a thick leather strap, and places his brown leather cap upon his head. A thin drawn sigh escapes him as he leaves his quarters to meet with Mallory and the rest of the ragtag band of resistance fighters.

"Glad to see that you're joining us, Kent. We leave immediately."

Kent climbs onto his dull black motorcycle, ironically of German engineering. It starts with a loud, callous roar that soon dies down into a gentle hum. He grins with satisfaction of the sound, running his mission objectives through his head repeatedly. He was to sneak into City Hall whilst the brunt of the resistance force diverts the attention from him. If he could get to the commanding officer and make him surrender, the result would be the reclamation of the building, and the district by association.

It would be a fairly simple job, if not easy. But it would be the most important mission he had undertaken yet. If he were to fail here, everything up to this point would be for naught. Every slain Nazi, every Kraut interrogated, every Gestapo captured.... For nothing.

Meanwhile, Mallory rallies the troops, filling them with words of hope and victory, despite the grim atmosphere that surely poisoned each and every one of their hearts. For Mallory, tonight was nothing in the grand scheme of things, she wouldn't be satisfied until every single Nazi soldier was eradicated from the country she had learned to call home.

She pushes her platinum tresses out of her line of sight, peering at every single soldier with a steely eyed stare. The men seemed to be a bit less hopeless after her brief speech... Which was pleasing to her, though she knew that each of the men played a minor part contrast with the responsibility resting on Kent's broad shoulders.

"For America...." She says, cocker her silenced Raum pistol.

"For America!" The soldiers follow suit, beginning a light chant.


End file.
